Alfred's New Pen Pal
by novemberskie
Summary: When Arthur and Alfred become pen pals, Alfred immediately wants Arthur to come visit. When he does, the pair learn they're going to be closer than they could ever imagine.
1. Commencing Pen Pals

**For his junior year in high school, Alfred must start being pen pals with someone in English class. Ms. Tupil gives Alfred the email address for one Arthur Kirkland, a Briton with a bit of a snappy nature. **

* * *

><p><strong>September 27th<strong>

_Dear Pen Pal,_

_ Hiya! I'm Alfred F. Jones! I think we're going to be the best of friends! Ms. Tulip (awesome name, right?), my English teacher, said that you live in England. How cool is that? _

_ I'm gonna get to the good part of the email. You get to learn about me! I'm sixteen, and I'm from Texas! My favorite sport is football, but I'll play anything! I __love__ hamburgers, and that's the easy way to my heart! My mom and my dad split up when I was ten, but that's okay, cause I have a really cool step- dad!_

_ I think that's all I'm gonna tell you for now, because I really want to get to know you before I start spilling my guts onto the page, okay? Okay! _

_ Your Pen Pal,_

_ Alfred F. Jones_

_ A.K.A. Your hero!_

**September 28th**

_Dear Alfred,_

_ Hello, it's nice to meet you Alfred. I'm Arthur Kirkland. Yes, I do live in England, and I do suppose you could say that it's 'cool,' though I never did understand the American use of that word. It's highly inappropriate in instances such as that. _

_ I suppose I should add some things about me. I'm sixteen as well, and I'm from London, England. I strongly dislike sports, or anything to do with sports, except cricket. I like tea, just like your silly stereotyping of us Britons. My parents are still together. Nothing special there. _

_ I see you fit the bill for the stereotype of Americans; burgers, loud, strange. I suppose I may find you entertaining, but I fail to see any educational value in me talking to someone like you. Where's it going to get me grade-wise?_

_ Your Pen pal,_

_ Arthur Kirkland_

_P.S. You're not my hero…_

**_September 29th_**

_Dear Arthur,_

_ WHOADUDETHAT'SSOAWESOME. You're really smart. I didn't get half of what you said. But that's okay, cause I really don't care! _

_ What's London like? Is it fun? And what' s cricket? Is it a game with crickets? Cause that sounds gross and weird. Not to sound mean or anything! I bet you're a cool dude!_

_ You should come here to the States sometime, and we can meet up and be friends! How cool would that be? I would totally love that!_

_ By the way, yes. I am your hero. I'm everyone's hero! I'm gonna save the world one day!_

_ Your Pen Pal,_

_ Alfred F. Jones_

**September 30th**

_Dear Alfred,_

_ I hardly find the capitals necessary. London's quite fun. Cricket's sort of like the American game of baseball, only British style. _

_ My mum was talking about going to America for a trip once. I suppose it would be okay if…_

**June 6th**

I looked around the empty bus station, waiting patiently for Arthur to show up. Well, not patiently. I was pacing, I was taping my shoe patiently, everything. I couldn't just sit there and do nothing! I was about to meet Arthur!

"Are you going to stand there and act like that the entire time, you bloody twit?" A voice said behind me. The British accent told me all I needed to know.

"Arthur!" I yelled, running, and pulled him into a huge bear hug.

"Can't…" Arthur gasped. "C-Can't breathe Alf-Alfred!"

"Oh! Sorry!" I dropped him, and realized I was a little taller than him. "Oh hey, you're shorter than I imagined."

His cheeks lit up a little pink, likely because I just poked fun at his height. "I-I'm not short!"

"Oh I'm just kidding!" I punched his arm lightly, and then grabbed the bag at his feet. "Come on! Mom's waiting!"

I led him to my car, though he practically had to run to catch up with me, and we both got in the backseat. My mom and step-dad sat in the front seats.

"This is my mom and my step dad. Guys, this is Arthur!" I said excitedly, entirely at ease. Arthur however, was blushing again.

"N-nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Jones." Arthur stuttered, and I felt bad for the guy. After all, he came to a brand new country, without any parents, and he was stuck with my lame parents and the heroic me? Granted, being with the heroic me was pretty awesome, but still, my lame—yet somehow still awesome—parents kind of bummed stuff out!

"Let's get home!" I said, suddenly remembering something. "I want to show Arthur where I live!"

"I'm sure Arthur wants to get something to eat." My mom laughed quietly at my excitement. "Are you hungry Arthur?"

"Very." Arthur said, and I felt my stomach give a huge roar, telling me it was hungry too.

"I want burgers!" I declared, earning a laugh from everyone in the car. My face fell. "What?"

"You Americans and your burgers," Arthur explained, wiping away an imaginary tear from laughing, "give me quite a laugh."

"Not all of us are as burger obsessed as Alfie." My mom said.

"Mooooooom!" I whined when she used the nickname that she insisted she call me, no matter how much I hated it. What hero wants to be called _Alfie?_

"Oh hush." My mom pulled away from the curb. "Let's go get food."

"Yes, let's." Arthur replied, leaning back in his seat.

I looked out the window, trying to figure out where we were going, watching scenery flash by, and wondered if Arthur was going to like America.

I really hoped he would, and hoped he would like me too. I bet he will!

* * *

><p><em><strong>More chapters to come soon! ;3<strong>_


	2. Bloody Twit!

_**Note: This is only short because I thought it would be nice to add Arthur in. **_

_**And thus, the rose bloomed. :3 (yep. Cheesey. Right there.)**_

* * *

><p>It had been a month at the Jones' residence, and I was far from being entertained.<p>

I'm not saying that it was a bad thing. If anything, it was good. Alfred and his bloody acts were going to get him killed one day, so the fact that we just sat in his backyard, legs dipped in the pool all day sort of made me happy. Well, as happy as one can be with one Alfred F. Jones.

"It's hot." Alfred whined, earning only a grunt in reply from me. "Arthur, do something!"

"Yes, because I have the power to magically make the sun go away and rain pour from the sky, you bloody twit." I muttered sarcastically, keeping my eyes closed. "Where is your brother?"

I was referring to the blonde, lilac-eyed boy who sort of just tagged along with us all the time, yet as of late, he had been missing. Shame, I was missing the silent boy's company. Anything was better than Alfred. Idiot.

"Out with his boyfriend, Gilbert," came the reply. I felt the deck shift, and opened one eye curiously to see Alfred walking away.

"Oi, where are you going?" I asked, scrambling to my feet and racing to catch up with the American.

"To go find someone _interesting_ to talk to." He replied.

_Ouch_.

"Would you wait up?" I demanded, glaring at the back of Alfred's brown bomber jacket.

"Why?" He whined. "I don't want to sit here and be bored all day. I didn't think it would be this boring having a British dude here, but now I can't wait for the day you're gonna go back!"

"For one, I'm not a 'British dude,' as you called me. I'm a Briton." I corrected him. "And second, it's 'going to,' not 'gonna,' and I would love to go back home. But I can't. I'm still here. So suck it up 'dude.'"

Alfred blinked at me for a moment, before flat out guffawing.

"What?" I asked indignantly, failing to see where I humored him.

"You're c-cute…When you're pretending t-to be… American!" He choked out between laughs. He was doubled over from laughing so hard, and it took all I had to keep from sending my foot flying into his groin. As it was, I shoved him over on my angry stalking to the house. "Oh co-come on... Arthur! I was... O-only kidding!"

"Bloody American." I muttered, shoving open the door.

I was only trying to hide the pink staining my cheeks.

Alfred F. Jones had called me cute…

* * *

><p><em><strong>More to come! ;D<strong>_

_**(Is anyone teased yet...?)**_


	3. Mistake

**_Do not hate me. I understand it's short, but I've been so busy lately. And I want to kill you all with my teasing. So don't hate._**

_**So... With that out of the way, enjoy!**_

* * *

><p>I was slowly beginning to realize that Arthur didn't like me.<p>

A_t all. _

The words he used to describe me—loud, obnoxious, idiotic, _git_—were all the words used to describe things that he disliked as much as I loved hamburgers, and that was saying a lot! Who doesn't like a hero?

Well the answer is simple; Arthur Kirkland hated heroes. And by heroes, I meant he hated _me._ No matter what I tried to do to try and be friends, he'd sputter out something about me being a 'bloody twit,' or some crazy British insult, and he would turn as red as the tomatoes I crush in my hamburgers.

And it hurt, knowing I couldn't bring him closer. I mean, it wasn't like I _liked _Arthur. No. That would be weird. And crazy. And stupid…

And romantic, and awesome, as my neighbor Gilbert would say….

But no! I did _not _have a crush on Arthur. Talk about gross! No, I just wanted to be his _macho hero_! And that was it!

My heart gave a tug… I think it disagrees with my brain. That or I'm having a heart attack…

_Help!_

* * *

><p>"Arthur…" I nudged his arm gently as we lay on the deck attached to our pool again for the kajillionth time that summer. (And yes, kajillionth is a real number. Shut up!) "Arthur, are you asleep?"<p>

"Yes, you git." Arthur snapped. "Now leave me alone."

"You're not going to fall asleep on me…" I whined, pushing him again. "Don't fall asleep Iggy!"

"What," Arthur shot up from where he lay, leveling a deadly glare at me, "did you just call me?"

"Iggy…" I said slowly, blinking up at him in shock. "You know, 'cause you're from England…"

"You stupid hamburger loving twit!" He muttered, though I swear I saw his cheeks turning pink slowly.

"You're blushing!" I poked his cheek, shocking him to the point that he lost his balance, falling on top of me. "Oh. Someone's a little eager…"

"W-what.. N-no!" He tried to scramble off, but with his legs half in the water, half out, he only succeeded in collapsing back on top of me. "Blo-"

I couldn't help it; I pulled his face closer to mine and pressed my lips against his gently. However, before he could say anything when he finally pulled back (while tactfully wiping away my messy slobber from his lips) I jumped to my feet and ran inside, ignoring my name being called by Arthur. I locked myself in my bedroom the rest of the night, ignoring attempts by everyone, including my brother and parents.

I just kissed Arthur Kirkland…

_And he didn't kiss me back._

* * *

><p><em><strong>More to come... <strong>_

_**Eventually! **_

_**I'm busy, sorry! I actually have a life this week for once... **_


	4. Fail Ending is a Fail

_**Okay, so I redid this so that I could warn you all; I'm going to be adding a few spin offs. Gilbert and Mattie are going to have pen pals as well, and the three year gap shall be filled in ^-^ **_

_**Enjoy! And stay tuned~**_

* * *

><p>The banging on my door woke me at midnight, according to the red numbers glaring at me from my alarm clock. Tired, and not entirely thinking clearly, I got up, mumbling something about dancing hamburgers (surely it was a dream. A… very… exciting dream…) as I padded to the door, unlocked it, and went to my bed to collapse again. However, I wasn't so lucky as to continue sleeping. A hand closed around my wrist, pretty much dragging me like a dead body through the house. Curse morning weakness. That was<em> so NOT<em> a hero thing.

"Leggoooo!" I whined, not really caring who had my hand. I'd beat them up later if I really had to.

"No." I perked up when I heard that Arthur was my kidnapper. Then, fear gripped my heart. Was he going to kill me and then bury me in the woods? Was that even polite behavior for a Briton? Did they murder people…?

Wait, no, I'm not scared. Heroes don't get scared!

"Arthur, where are we goooooing?" I asked, trying to pull my hands from his grip. I realized in shock that we were back on the deck of my pool, and Arthur was giving me a rather strange look.

I kind of liked it…

"Would you stop zoning out so I can talk to you, you bloody twit?" Arthur demanded, slapping me on the arm. I just blinked at him. "What happened… The other day…"

"N-no!" I jumped up, not wanting this conversation to go on. I said as much.

"Well what else am I supposed to do?" Arthur demanded angrily, glaring at me. "I come here to meet my _pen pal_, end up falling for my _pen pal,_ and get kissed by my_ pen pal! _I have to go back to England soon! What am I supposed to do when I'm falling in love with the person who I'll be bloody well leaving?"

"This." I couldn't help it; he was so flustered, so red in the face, that I just shoved my lips against his, and this time, he kissed me back.

For real. Tongue and everything.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Three Years Later...<em>**

;3

* * *

><p>"I swear, if you do that again you bloody git, I'm going to kill you!" Arthur muttered at me as I grinned at him from where I sat at the table, having just attempted to engage in a game of footsie under the table.<p>

"But you love me anyways," I blinked, and added on as though an afterthought; "_Iggy_."

"Well," He leaned across the table, coming threateningly close, closer than he had in the entire three years we had been dating since that pool deck incident. "_Alfie,_ I suppose I agree."

"Don't call me Alfie!" I growled, pouting as I leaned back in the seat.

"You didn't seem to mind it when my mother-in-law called you that." Arthur winked, and I felt maybe I should relish the moment. It was the first time since we got married that he had been even slightly flirty like this.

Well, unless he was drunk.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Fail Chapter is a Fail. <strong>_

_**I really couldn't think of a better ending. (though Junewolfe gave me an idea, I couldn't make it work. I'm too freaking stressed right now ._.)**_

_**Review? ;3**_


End file.
